Anger Management
by Kayasuri-n
Summary: A journal written by a new farmer, for anger management. Because you've thought about taking a sickle to that mayor too. Accidentally put the wrong chapter up for chapter two- the problem is fixed now.
1. Chapter 1

**Year One, Spring**

Day 1:

Man oh man is my Grandpa Howard's farm a mess. Weeds growing everywhere, tree stumps (and this is where I start wondering just WHAT Grandpa Howard grew, and why only a few stumps are left), rocks _the size of my head_ or, hell, _even bigger rocks_ scattered everywhere…! The barn's a mess, the chicken coop (at least, I assume it's a chicken coop… For all I know it could be the threshing barn) is falling down, and his house is a little one room shack. There's an out house for when you have to, you know, go.

And Grandpa Howard lived here? As they say in the city, _Jesus_…!

So, there I am, staring at the ruin of what I'm told was a pretty good farm, wondering why in Hell it was willed to me. Grandpa Howard must've had one weird sense of humor, since I never even met him before. Well, that I can remember.

Grandpa Howard is- was- actually my great-uncle on my mom's side. From what I heard, he was a generous man, never married, never had kids, so he doted on his nieces and nephews. Probably hoped one of them would decide Farming Was For Him (or her, but Grandpa Howard grew up in the Women Don't Vote era, so… Yeah). Unfortunately, it didn't end up that way. My uncles are all in business, and my mom and aunts all work together to run one clothing store. It does pretty good business, too.

So, Grandpa Howard kept on with the farm, doing… whatever it is you do on a farm while his nieces and nephews went off and had kids. By that point, Grandpa Howard was pretty old, so he must have just written my name into the will…

But what am I going to do with this place? The only people that would buy it are condo builders or something. No one else would be crazy enough to take it over, right?

Of course, there was that thing what's his name, the mayor of this town (is it big enough to have a mayor? Well, that's what he called himself. Going to have to think on that one) suggested…

So, yeah. Journals are supposed to be a recounting of your day, down to the last memorable detail. Fine, whatever, I guess I'd better start at the beginning, then.

And when I figure out how to get out of this stupid… plan… Argh…

So, yeah, I took a bus down to this place called, and I'm not joking here, Forget-me-not Valley. One day I'm going to find this journal, probably in the back of my closet, take a look through, and _laugh_. Forget-me-not Valley? That's one Hell of a joke, I tell you… Anyways, so, bus, then a long walk down the road to get to the farm.

So I'm standing there, kind of boggling at the amount of mess, when someone clears their throat behind me. Now, I hadn't been expecting that, hadn't heard anyone coming up behind me, so I… Why do journals have to be honest again? Oh, yeah, 'cause I'm the only one who'll ever read it and DAMN that therapist for making sense… Right, where was I? … Crazy mayor, right.

So, I didn't expect anyone to actually be standing right behind me, so I screamed, spun around, and fell back.

This guy who looked like he had a tomato for a head- and a body for that matter- looked down at me.

"And who are you? Don't you know this is private property?" he asked.

I stammered something, got up, and found myself towering over who I was privately thinking of as 'Tomato-man, the creature from the farm the world forgot'. Or something like that, anyways. I'm kind of used to towering over people. Tall and skinny, that's me. But anyways.

"I got left this farm by my Grandpa," I said, which must've thrown Tomato-man for a loop. Grandpa Howard, as I've said, was never married and never had kids. But I didn't feel like explaining the whole fiasco family history thing.

"You're Cayor Little?" Tomato-man asked, after a long pause.

I hate, hate, _HATE_ my name! Hate it! First name- my parents had a scrabble set. They couldn't agree on a name, so they decided to pick out five letters and make a name from that. I was almost named Yaroc or something. And my last name- well, I'm not little. I was taller then anyone in my class, every year. The teasing was awful, at least until we learnt basketball.

And why did I just write all that down? I know it all, damn it. This is my journal, this is… Right, it doesn't matter what I write, I'm the only one who'll ever read it…

So, Tomato-man asked my name. After a moment to fume about how my parents and the universe hated me, I nodded. Yes, yes I am Cayor Little. (Why can't the ground ever open up and swallow me, like I want? Anyone got an answer? Anyone?)

"I'm Mayor Thomas," he said. THAT'S his name! Thomas!

I shook his hand, then we both looked out over the farm in silence. For all of one minute.

"It's a bit of a mess," he said.

Well, duh.

"Yeah. Not sure what I'm going to do with it," I said. "I could clean it up and sell it."

"There's an idea," Thomas said, grinning. It just made him look more like a tomato then ever. "Though… Do you have enough money?"

Did I have enough money? I thought about it- I had seven hundred dollars in savings, at least a hundred on me, for the trip. I shrugged.

"I think so. Why?"

The Mayor rubbed his chin. He actually rubbed his chin. And here I'd been of the opinion that people only did that in bad movies or equally bad books. "Your Grandfather rented out most of his fields to his neighbor, so you'll have some money coming in that way. Enough to pay the taxes while you're waiting to sell, anyways."

I blinked. Figured that what I saw wasn't all of it. "Okay, and?"

The Mayor explained for most of an hour. To paraphrase: a working farm will go for more then one that's just been cleaned up. All I'd have to do is grow some vegetables, have a couple chickens, ducks, a really small herd of sheep and cows, and I'd be able to charge maybe triple the asking price. And I could live off whatever profits came my way, while waiting for someone to toddle up and say 'how much'.

It's a good idea. It's just, what's sticking in my head… The Mayor was laughing and starting to leave. I was getting ready to start weeding. Then he stopped, turned around, and stared at me.

"Or you could do like your Grandpa did, farm here yourself. Not a bad life, you know."

So, yeah, it stuck in my head while I worked all day. Well, okay, an hour. Then I wandered around the town for the rest of the day.

There's an inn, a beach, a large manor house I didn't go near because hey, rich people… There was a small river, or large stream, and across it there were more farms, these selling things like birds and cows and sheep and fruit and vegetable seeds.

It's a nice town. The people, what little I've seen of them, seem nice. And it's not like I've got anything, y'know, waiting for me once I've cleared this up. My family's washed their hands of me, 'cause last time I checked I was still living in my parents' basement. Maybe I COULD be a farmer.

Or maybe it's just a grace period for me to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.

Whatever. I'm going to bed.

Day 2:

Alright, in the interests of being completely truthful to this journal and myself (thanks a lot Dr. Rob because I really needed to spend time on a freaking book) I'll run through my day now.

Bluntly, it sucked.

Why, you ask? Wait, you can't ask, you're a bunch of paper and… I think I have heat stroke…

From the beginning, then.

So, I woke up. Turns out Grandpa has- had- an alarm clock. One of those battery powered ones, which surprised me. I figured Grandpa would be the type to shun technological advances.

It was set for six in the morning.

SIX IN THE MORNING! Who freaking gets up at six in the freaking morning?

And don't say 'farmers'.

Looking over my entry from yesterday, I can see that I didn't describe Grandpa Howard's old house (shack) as well as I could have. I'll do so now, just so I can cool off, because otherwise I'll get angry all over again.

It's small. Maybe a hundred square feet? IF that? There's a bed (too small!) in one back corner, a TV in the other (no chair, just a cushion… without any cushioning…), a shelf above the bed for I don't know what, a chest in the corner nearest the door, and in the last corner, a wardrobe. It's still filled with Grandpa Howard's things. Anyways, against one wall- the wall that isn't taken up by bed and wardrobe, because that's all that could fit- there's a little beer fridge, and on top of that, a shelf made of wood, just high enough to fit over the fridge. There was a box- an actual box, swear I'm not kidding- beside the fridge, and the shelf over the fridge was just long enough to stretch over the box. Enough room on the shelf for a microwave, hot plate, and not much else, except for a cutting board. A really small cutting board.

Yesterday, I got a few necessities, since there was no food anywhere to be found. A few boxes of macaroni and cheese, some milk, some bread, a pot… The well water's safe to drink, I asked the Mayor before he left yesterday. In between getting told how to sell produce (some guy named Zach has a stall in the towns square on market day, every other day he'll put whatever you want to sell in a truck, head to a big city, take a cut of what you earn, give you the rest…) and how to NOT get lost in the woods.

So, I made breakfast, which ended up being a cheese sandwich. Not bad, considering I was still half asleep.

Then I decided, what the heck, I was up, might as well poke around the farm, see what I've got to work with…

I have rats.

Oh, and a feral cat that tried to kill me.

Let me explain. I went out, looked around the chicken coop- and it was a chicken coop, turned out- and saw, well, nothing. So I headed over to the barn, opened the door, and scared the crap out of several really big rats. Long as my arm without their tails, I swear… But yeah, I'm not afraid of rats (well, once I get all my gibbering out, so that was five minutes in the doorway, and after that I was good) and I headed in. No light switch, so I left the doors open as wide as possible for all the light.

It was pretty run down. Spider webs were hung just about everywhere, I could hear rats squeaking and running around, there was straw strewn about wherever you looked… Then I looked up at the rafters, and saw two glowing green eyes narrowed at me.

I started to back up. That's when the cat attacked.

I ended up with scratches on my neck, shoulders, forehead, and a bite on my ear. The cat jumped off my shoulder and ran off into the darkness. I headed out of the barn and for the town doctor.

I'm going to have a scar on my ear. The scratches should heal up just fine. Everything was disinfected, if there's any soreness (beyond the expected), puffiness, or red color, I should talk to the doctor again.

Wonder if I'm the only one who thinks it odd that he's missing an eye and looks a little like a borg… Y'know, from Star Trek? Dr. Hardy's left eye was replaced by what looks like a plate of steel curved around his skull, and a red lens where the eye should be… Really freaky. Wonder how many people take their problems to him?

So, yeah, after that lovely interlude, I headed back to the farm. I kept one eye out for demon cats, and went back into the barn.

I didn't find much- a sickle, a sledge hammer, a watering can, a hoe, an old bag of seeds, and that was kind of it. Since I didn't want to come back into the barn again, I gathered it all up and took it out. Most of it could stay outside, but the watering can and seeds were taken in. Once I made sure there weren't any nasty surprises, that is.

After that, I was hungry enough to think about lunch. I made a pot of macaroni, and ate on the flat cushion in front of the TV.

Four channels. Weather, some weird variety program, cartoons, and something called 'Helpful Farming Tips'. I glanced at the weather- sunny tomorrow, five percent chance of rain- and then switched to the Tips channel.

"Water your crops when it's sunny or they'll wither away!" Uhm, duh? Though, even I know you don't need to water them EVERY day, not when it's been cool and it's rained recently. Summer, now, then it's a good idea to water every day. But yeah, let's kill our crops with over watering! Who's going to join me?

Pause for a response… Nothing. That's what I thought.

So, TV was a bust. The cartoons was… I don't know what, some weird romance thing. Demon prince, human princess, you just know they're going to get hitched.

I cleaned up the dishes, and then I finally got to work.

Guess what? Afternoons are hotter then mornings. Pulling weeds is hard on your back and hands. And if you don't have a hat, the sun tends to parboil your brain.

Yeah. I'm still alive. I'm not bleeding (anymore). I'm going to go to sleep. Tomorrow I'll figure out how to turn off the damn alarm clock.

Goodnight.

Day 4:

I am a bad, bad man. I forgot to write yesterday. (I pulled weeds and tossed rocks. Nothing much happened except my back hurts.) Well, I'm writing today, so alright, here we go.

I worked all morning, then decided to go into town. People were probably starting to wonder about me. Small farming town, nothing much interesting happens except storms, yeah? Turns out I was right. I met a bunch of people, including a couple (sorry, not a couple in the ROMANTIC sense, a couple as in two, they were very adamant about it) of archeologists working across the river-stream thing. Nice people, a bit intense. I also met the people who run the inn- Ruby, Rock (a spoiled brat if I ever met one), and Nami (she looks like she could use a therapist herself).

After that I wandered. There were a bunch of fields around town. I asked someone- Wally? Wallace? Walley? Something like that- about it, he said they were 'just left that way. If you see something interesting in there (meaning the field) you can have it'.

Well.

I'll admit, growing up with a horticultural obsessed sister (who has a normal name. Alice. How can you get any more normal then that?) has its uses. I know that the herbs I saw will get me some money, if I sell them to Zach. They're also edible, but they're bitter raw, so I'm better off selling them.

Okay, yeah, I went kind of nuts. There were the herbs and there were also some bamboo shoots scattered around. You can do stuff with bamboo, and I'm almost sure you can eat it. Maybe if I'm braver tomorrow, I'll have a try.

So, tomorrow- work in the morning, wander around town (okay, honesty, I know- forage for herbs and bamboo) in the afternoon. If something interesting happens, I'll write about it.

Day 5:

The girls here are psycho. Muffy especially. She's blonde, beautiful, and PSYCHO!

She tried to kiss me… Is it weird that I'd rather make out with a snake? I didn't even know her name!

I'm going to hide under my bed now, good night.

Day 6:

Yesterday, I think I came off as terrified. Well, I was. Muffy (psycho amorous blonde), Celia (shy, sweet, brunette), Nami (therapy requiring red head), Flora (archeology chick, brown hair), and Lumina (she's rich, what else can I say?) are all single. And interested. And apparently I'm new blood. (Did I mention there's a bona fida witch? She's blonde (and scary) and has red eyes and my hand still hurts from that hand shake…)

Help! They all have boyfriends, who now all want to KILL ME! (Except the witch, 'cause I don't think anyone's crazy enough to get on her good side. Might chuck you in her cauldron and turn you into one of those weird potions…) Carter (archeology, seems to like Flora no matter what they say), Gustafa (he likes Nina. Obviously, he needs therapy too), Marlin (he works on the same farm as Celia), Griffin (he's welcome to Muffy, seriously), and Rock (didn't I mention him? Spoilt brat, wasn't it? He's a gold digger, I guess he's going for Lumina), all made sure to talk to me yesterday and today. Along the lines of 'welcome to the valley, look at our girls and we'll scalp you'.

I don't want to die!

So, other then that harrowing 'meet the girls, then meet their boyfriends', I basically did what I did yesterday. (Uh, not including being assaulted by an amorous blonde). Work all morning, forage in the afternoon.

Maybe I can make myself gay… That'd save me from the girls, their boyfriends, and gossip. Right?

Whatever, goodnight.

* * *

ARGH I HAVE INSOMNIA!

It's midnight, I've been staring at the ceiling since seven at night… The bed's small and lumpy, there are weird sounds outside, and the roof might be rotting, I'm not sure.

I'm sitting out on the stoop as I write this, because there are no windows in the shack. It's close, and airless, and if I spend one more second in there… I don't know.

I have anger issues. I know that. Dr. Rob knows that- that's why I have a journal. It's so I don't let things build up (and then try to jump a mime that knows self defense… Owch…). Right. And you know what? My anger issues aren't going to be helped by being short on sleep.

* * *

Two hours ago, I got interrupted in my writing. By a thief. I'll write more about it tomorrow, I'm tired enough to sleep now. Good night.

* * *

_Well, I've finally done it. I've written a Harvest Moon fanfic. Obviously I don't own it. I'm not even sure I own Cayor, since he IS the farmer who moves in... Anyways. There is no plot. This is what I work on when supremely bored. Reviews are optional, I'm going to go... do something now. Bye._


	2. Chapter 2

**Year One, Spring**

Day 7:

I wrote yesterday that I'd write about the thief today, didn't I?

…Just read over what I just wrote, and considered giving up the journal. Decided not to, because Dr. Rob tends to call me up. I haven't tried assault recently, but apparently I'm 'high risk' so I get check ups. Fun times! Anyways, the thief.

So, last night with my insomnia, I was writing away- when someone decided to trip over my foot.

Now, I didn't take that kindly (I take very little kindly, actually) and kicked out at the offending person. I got him in the hip. Go me.

"Hey!" he yelled, and I managed to get a good (full moon, clear sky, no light pollution either) look at the guy.

Shorter then me, shoulder length hair that looked silver, pale eyes, dark clothes.

"Hey yourself!" I snapped. "What do you think you're doing?"

He looked over his shoulder, and scowled. "Hiding. Move so I can get inside."

I think I said something like "what" but it might've been 'huh?' In short order, I ended up with a visitor. A visitor that sucks at fighting, so I managed to win THAT little wrestling match.

I pinned him down by sitting on his stomach and grabbing his wrists. I couldn't see much, considering the decided lack of windows, but the door was open. I could see that he looked- scared, I guess. Or maybe like he was going to throw up. Kind of hard to tell, considering I could only see a fraction of his face. And that fraction included his ear.

"Who the fuck are you?" I asked, glowering down at him. At least I thought I was glowering. Might've just looked royally confused. Or homicidal. Not entirely sure… Didn't have a mirror.

Anyways. The crazy random guy tried to pull his wrists free, but couldn't. I had leverage and strength! Cayor for the win!

"I," he said, glaring up at me. "Am Phantom Skye. I can't breathe. Get off me."

I didn't move. "Phantom Skye?" I asked. "What kind of stupid name is that?"

To make the long argument really short, it's his name. It's not stupid, and neither is he. And I won the second wrestling match, managed to kick him in the stomach (an accident, really) and tossed him out of the house. Shack. Whatever.

Then I stumbled into bed and managed to fall asleep with a minimum of growling. When I woke up, he was gone. Maybe the demon cat had got him. Hey, a guy can dream.

The rest of today was kind of a repeat of… the whole of last week. Pull weeds in the morning, eat lunch, forage. Well, forage slash explore. Today I not only went across the pitiful river, but nearly ran over two old folks while doing it!

I apologized. I have anger issues, not manner issues. When you nearly knock someone in a river, you do your damned best to display how sorry you are.

Looking back, bowing at the man's feet and begging forgiveness was probably really stupid. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Long story short, I got invited back to their place for food. I told them (a heavily edited version) the whole story, with Grandpa Howard leaving me the farm and me trying to clean it up.

I'm still not sure how it happened, but I left that encounter with two hard boiled eggs and a fishing pole that was past its last legs and was begging to be put down. And permission to forage in the field around the old folks and their home. Well, so long as I wasn't stealing anything from them…

So yeah. That was about it. I'm going to sleep now. And if any fucking idiotic thieves disturb my rest tonight… There's a sickle beside my bed.

I may write this from jail tomorrow. (Do they have a jail here? Something to look into.)

Day 8:

No random thieves in the night, thankfully. Thinking about it, murder is never the answer. How can they know they lost if they're dead? And how can you mock them?

So yeah. Nothing special to report. No random attacks by amorous drunk blondes. Nami did threaten to rearrange my face, but I'm pretty sure that's normal for her.

Oh. There are girls that visit from a nearby town. (And they have boyfriends too. Not as scary, but still.) They came over in a pack today. Ann, Elli, Karen, Mary, and Popuri. (Who names their kid Popuri? And what kind of word is it, anyways? Unless she's another scrabble-named sucker?)

Yeah… Bed.

Day 9:

Farming is boring.

Day 10:

Did I say farming is boring? Because it's true. Farming IS boring. But, and here's the important part- the people that invade your life and won't go away are all fucking psychos!

I don't think I'm the only one who thinks privacy is a good thing. Surely there are other people in the village who don't react with joy and delight when someone asks them about their bathing habits. Seriously! Romana- crazy old rich woman living up in the manor- cornered me in the inn today. And Nami joined her. And they were asking me things- like how I took a bath and where and how often and- and it wouldn't stop!

I managed to escape. Nearly faked my own death. And that's when Muffy showed up!

I pretended to pass out. Not my most inventive of escapes, but it got me away from her. Thankfully, she was too drunk to think of CPR.

Dr. Hardy was very understanding when I explained I didn't want my soul sucked out by a blonde vampire. He only checked me for fever and dementia five dozen times. (Okay, two, but it felt like a lot more.)

I ended up hiding away on the farm after that. Found a fruit tree. No idea what'll grow. Just have to wait and see, I guess…

Day 14:

Don't care if I skipped days, nothing really noteworthy anyways. Weeding, chucking rocks, foraging. I am now incapable of getting lost in the village. And bamboo is edible, and even tasty, when you cook it right.

Using left over cheese from Mac 'n' cheese packets is NOT a good flavoring for bamboo. And eating it raw is not technically cooking, but it doesn't taste half bad like that.

So yeah, today wasn't really exceptional, except Muffy showed up at my farm. (Cue my running and hiding in the barn… Or my attempt, anyway, since I was kind of too far away and she wasn't drunk.) She cornered me between the chicken coop and the fence, and started asking where her cookies were.

I really didn't want to answer. Especially when she asked if I'd eaten her cookies. See, the problem THERE is that I grew up with a really perverted friend, and… I'd rather not think about it, because _it scares me_.

And I don't scare easily.

Griffin showed up to drag her away, and ended up explaining the cookie thing. Today is- was- the Spring thanksgiving festival. If you like a girl, you make her cookies. My not having a kitchen didn't occur to Muffy- or the fact that I hate her guts- or the fact that I'm a poisonous cook who can barely be trusted to boil water.

I set fire to a salad once. I still have no idea how I did it…

Anyways. So, Muffy got dragged away. Yay Griffin. Why can't he get her a leash or something?

I'm going to go to bed now.

* * *

JUST got back from trying to kill that damn thief again. Write more in the morning.

Day 15:

Rubbing sleep out of my eyes as I write this.

Phantom Skye showed up again yesterday. As far as I can figure, he's used to using my farm (Grandpa Howard's farm, but it's mine now, and- I shouldn't write when half asleep, should I?) as a hide out, so as NOT to get scalped by angry boyfriends or, y'know, killed by the people he's stolen from.

There's no police force here. Justice is dependant on who's got the bigger stick.

Last night, _I_ had the bigger stick! Okay, it was a sickle, but I think I made that thief wet his pants. MAN can he run fast!

So yeah. That's what happened last night. I doubt he'll show up again, and if he does… I'll have to hide a body. There's a forest just at the far edge of my farm.

No jury would convict me anyways.

* * *

Today was boring. Last night wasn't. Goodnight.

Day 17:

What the Hell is a duck festival and why would I want to go? I mean, I will go, if only for the curiosity thing, but what is it?

Day 18:

… Ducks are weird. These people are weird. This town is weird.

…And I think someone followed me home. Am I paranoid? Maybe, but MUFFY WAS THERE AND SHE WAS WATCHING ME!

I wish I could lock the damn door.

Day 19:

So, yesterday I wrote that I feared I had a stalker. I do and I don't. What I have, is a dog.

It's a scrawny, half-grown mutt with, uh, fur. Kinda hard to see what color it is under all the dirt. Friendly, though. Knocked me over and washed my face this morning. I thought it was Muffy at first, but she doesn't have claws.

Seriously, Griffin, keep control over your girlfriend.

Anyways. The dog. I shoved it off, and it immediately started cowering. I go in, get some bread, and feed it, and it tries to wash my face again. This thing knows no middle ground. Raise your hand, it looks like you're going to beat it. Make kissing sounds, it RUNS AWAY! (Hah! In your FACE, Lumina!) Ignore it for most of the day like I did, it… glues itself to your leg and WON'T GO AWAY.

Not that I mind. I like dogs. This dog is certainly better then the demon cat, which I saw skulking around outside the barn. The demon cat made EYES at my dog, the kind of eyes that say 'drop dead and decay'. No cat's going to harm MY dog…

All I have to do is buy food for the dog. I figure he'll eat just about anything, but it's probably best if I don't try to feed him weeds. Though he did try to eat them when I was weeding earlier this morning.

Poor pup. Someone's got to take care of him, and that someone apparently is me. He's sleeping at the foot of the bed and everything.

Well, good night.

Day 20:

Bought beef jerky at the inn, and some more bread. Tried to give the dog a bath. It didn't go well.

Had trouble finding bamboo in the fields, so I ended up making some Mac 'n cheese. Shared with the mutt. Need to come up with a name.

Am very tired. Sleep. Bleh.

Day 22:

There was a cooking festival today. I probably should've locked the mutt up in the hut, but he screamed like I was killing him when I shut the door. So yeah, half starved animal in a crowd surrounded by food scents and people trying to touch him. THAT was interesting!

So, we show up. Nothing much happening, I didn't bring any cooked food and Mayor Thomas said he was disappointed in me.

I said, "You'd be thankful if you knew what my cooking was like," meaning Death by Cayor's Cooking. I don't think Mayor tomato-face thought that, though, since he scowled and huffed and stomped off. He never even noticed the mutt.

The mutt noticed the mayor, though. Oh did he notice the mayor!

Though, in my defense, Mayor Tomatoes-for-brains shouldn't have kept a ham sandwich in his pocket. Sure, it was wrapped in wax paper, but the mutt could smell it. And he was hungry.

So… Yeah. The mutt went running and bit the mayor right on the pocket. Back pocket of his pants.

The screaming got a lot of attention, the mutt ended up getting a sandwich out of the deal, and all the girls in town tried to coo. (Mayor went away to sulk. You'd think it'd be about the ruined pants, but no… The mutt ended up eating his entry. Go figure.) The mutt wasn't in for cooing, but I managed to calm him down. A bit.

Okay, we ended up standing practically in the surf, but whatever. I managed to keep the mutt from replacing the food taster (looked like a pig dressed up in a purple suit and hat, but that's just me), but after the awards were handed out…

Okay. I'm mean. I'll admit it right now.

I let the dog loose.

Then I turned my back on the sudden chaos and pretended to have gone deaf. But it was fun listening to the yelling.

The dog was banned from any and all cooking contests from now on. For that matter, so was I.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

_Huzzah for bordom, right? I might be playing around with the game's plotline a bit. If only to make the mines a bit more realistic, among other things. But I will try to stay loyal to the randomness that is Cayor's life._


	3. Chapter 3

**Year One, Spring**

Day 23:

I am Cayor Little, champion of the world! I am… extremely good at hiding. Muffy. Need I say more?

Oh, and the demon cat? Not such a demon when you throw bread at it. (I meant for a rock. It was going to claw my dog to bits! Never put bread beside you…) So, I chucked a piece of bread, ended up with a purring kitty cat. And a jealous dog, who tried to run the cat off and got a swipe to the nose for his trouble.

I gave him extra jerky for his pain.

Then, and I kid you not, the cat started making up to the dog. Probably because of the jerky. They're both half starved, you can see their ribs and hip bones. Not very much, and the dog especially is getting better, but…

Okay, now I need to name them. (I refuse to make pets of, and name the rats.) The cat's… black. Blacky? No. Ink spot? No chance in hell. I'll think about it.

So, beyond the hiding from Muffy and the episode with the cat and dog, nothing much happened today. Beyond finally giving the dog a bath. He's brown, one ear stands up, one ear flops over, and he likes giving soulful looks in the hopes that you'll feed him.

I have weird pets, you know that?

Day 24:

And the continuing saga of "Cayor Little's Weird Pets" continues! With a new addition to the psycho clan- the horse! Who's probably going to end up with Horse as a name…

Okay, explanation needed. Right. See, (why am I explaining to a freaking BOOK?) there's this guy, Taka-something, lives right down the road. Retired farmer? Dunno. Anyways, he showed up today with a horse. I know nothing about horses. It was brown, like the dog. And big. So Taka-what's his name grins, and tells me he found this horse a while back and was trying to find its owner. No one came forward, and he heard I'd moved into the farm, would I like a horse?

I didn't have a chance to reply with 'no, why the fuck would I, what do I feed it?' when he'd taken the _really big animal_ and stuck it in a shed type building. Good point, though? The demon cat (y'know what, I'll just call it 'Demon', solve the name problem there) attacked Taka's feet. And hands, because the idiot tried to pick it up.

Go Demon.

And the dog showed up, and started barking, the horse made some really loud snorting sound back, Taka ran away, and I ended up with a horse that apparently likes to nibble on people.

Sensibly, I went and started weeding. It'd done a lot of it, I'll probably be able to plant crops this summer. Interspersed with cleaning up the land, I ran around to try and avoid the horse, who wanted to see what my shirt tasted like.

Yes, the horse eventually found out, decided it didn't like cotton, tried out my jeans, tried my hair, and finally decided I had nothing tasty on my person.

I probably should've locked the beast up in the shed, right? Keep it from wandering off? Well, I didn't.

The dog followed me into town for my daily forage for food and sellable stuff. Surprisingly enough, the horse stayed on the farm with Demon. They seemed to be getting along pretty well.

There were no random encounters with the townspeople. Oh no, I meant to talk to each and every one of them! Ruby at the Inn, Rock the gold digger, Nami, Muffy- I avoided her- Griffin… Basically, if I knew them, I talked to them. I asked about the horse Taka-whatever had found, and whether they knew anything about that.

What I got amounted to 'you have a horse now? Congratulations! Don't forget to feed it!'

About as helpful as a fish to the face… Oh yeah. I tried fishing. Eh heh… DAMN those things are slimy!

Day 25:

I have tilled my field (a small part of it) and planted some seeds! The random 'I don't know what it is' tree has started dropping its flowers, and I'm told the fruit, whatever they'll end up being, will be available for harvest by midsummer.

I met another random person today. Gotz (is that how you spell it?) from Mineral Town. Who names these places? Forget-me-Not Valley and Mineral Town. Whatever. Anyways, Gotz (pretty sure that's how you spell it) showed up and started talking to me about building a better chicken coop and enlarging my house and… It sounds like a lot of money. (It is. HOW much gold?) I'll probably end up buying from him, but if it'll cut down on the cost, I'll work for free.

But first I need the money. Zack's been showing up like clockwork at 5 P.M. every night, so at least there's that. (And you can sell the weeds for a single gold each… I must have a pile of three hundred of them.)

I wandered over to the mine today, pretty late. What's his name, Carter, borrowed my hammer. Well, borrowed as in 'yanked off my belt and refused to say a word to me as he ran into the mine'. Yes, I hang my hammer off my belt. And my ax, and… well, just about everything… Not like my backpack can carry all the stuff, it's not big enough. And it'd have to defy the laws of physics or something…

Anyways. I chased after Carter because hey, my hammer! And I find him wailing on one of the walls. Just as I reach him, the wall collapses and the mining lantern gets smashed, so we're left in the dark.

Carter doesn't seem to notice. He's yelling and cheering and I can't see my own hand in front of my face, and… Yeah. Not a happy boy, was I.

Eventually, I convinced Carter to go outside. Who knew grabbing someone by their hair and yanking was so convincing? Once we were outside, Carter explained- there was a tunnel to a deeper part of the mine, he'd lost his hammer, he was real thankful he could borrow mine.

In answer to my silence, which he seemed to take for admiring and happy on his behalf, he told me that I could help dig in the mine and whatever I found I could keep.

Actually, now that I think about it, he might've said that because I was thinking about killing him. Maybe Carter has weird mind reading powers and could feel the homicidal waves of hate rolling off me.

_My _hammer.

Day 30:

Mining is profitable, if you don't mind the exhaustion.

I have enough money for a better chicken coop. Which is great, since I wouldn't trust a chicken to the one I have now.

Gotz starts tomorrow. God, I'm tired. Sleep. Sleep good…

**Year One, Summer**

Day 1:

The heat has baked my brain. Kai is a lunatic. Phantom Skye Thief idiot stole something from Romana's mansion, which, honestly, is really stupid. The police are out in force! All… one… of them…

Yeah, I've already decided what I'll do to this Skye idiot if he shows up on my farm again. A use for the giant rats, finally!

I built a chicken coop today. Gotz said normally he'd do it himself, but the offer of help was one he just couldn't ignore. That's… a good thing, right? Right? Anyways, three days of work, and I'll have a chicken coop. For, you know, chickens. They lay eggs and the eggs make me money.

Anyways, yeah, that's what I did today.

Day 2:

Worked on the chicken coop.

Day 3:

Chicken coop done. Gonna die now.

Day 4:

So, looking over the past two entries, it seems like all I did was work on the damn chicken coop. Probably pretty accurate, since I can't remember anything. Besides, you know, hammer, saw, lifting wood and holding it there while Gotz nails it in place…

It's a good building. I think I want to live in it, instead of this tiny little hut. Whatever. I now have no money, it be summer, my crops are beginning to grow. And my animals (save the horse) look less starved (the horse looks… the same. Big. Brown. Whatever.).

So yeah. I tossed those weeds I yanked out of my field into the shipping bin, which I swear is actually a portal to another dimension. No matter how much stuff (see, pile of 300 weeds, I swear) I put in, there's always more room. Always. It's kind of freaky.

And it was raining, so I didn't have to water anything. Demon the cat wanted to spend his (her? I don't know) time inside the house, so in he (default) went. The dog (who is henceforth Dog) wanted to plaster himself to my leg, so we went walking.

For lack of anything better to do, I decided to go foraging near the mine. As I walked, I noticed that the bamboo was gone from the fields. Dang. At least it looked like there were berries on the bushes, so I wouldn't have to trust my cooking too much. You know, I like my stomach lining.

I got assaulted by Cartier again, this time because he wanted to talk to me about the dig. Dog yapped his head off, apparently not liking Cartier in Cayor's personal space. Good Dog… I managed to get free of Cartier's rants by, well… It's stupid…

I fell down a hole.

I pulled away from Cartier's arm, which happened to be across my shoulders. I stumbled over a rock. I fell against a wall. Which then proceeded to crumble beneath my weight and send me flying down this really long tunnel and… You know what, I think at some point I blacked out.

God knows I woke up bleeding from the side of my head.

It was pitch black at the bottom of that hole. I couldn't see anything- not my hand in front of my face, not any distant point of light suggesting where I'd fallen from, nothing. I couldn't even tell if my eyes were open or closed.

I could tell that I hurt, a lot. Besides the bleeding head wound, my jaw felt like someone'd delivered a right hook to it, my ribs ached like… well, like they were broken, and while I didn't think my arms or legs were broken, they hurt. A lot.

I've been in enough fights to know how to get up and walk it off, so to speak. To start off with, you don't. Get up, I mean. What you do is lie on your back, and flex your arms and legs to see if anything makes you want to scream when you move it. If nothing does, you slowly sit up, because if you move too fast you'll pass out and hit your head on the ground. Which is never recommended because, well, lack of consciousness.

I managed to get all the way upright without falling over, blacking out again (how would I be able to tell?) or hurting any worse then I already was. But once I was up, I was confronted with a dilemma. What to do? I mean, I couldn't see anything. If I took a step, I might be going down yet another long drop with even more aches and pains, if not death, at the bottom.

I'm not used to being serious, or being faced with real, life or death situations. Not like this. Back home, I'd get into fights, sure- it's how I ended up with an arrest under my belt and a shrink, for my anger issues. But back home, there was always someone around to bail me out. My parents, for example, or my friend, Keith (who decided to move to Maine on account of the cops wanting his head on a platter, the coward). I'd never been really, truly alone before.

It wasn't fun.

The darkness, the alone-ness, all seemed to conspire against me. It was like the Fates that Be decided Cayor Little was going to have a session of introspection, whether I liked it or not.

I didn't. Not that I had any choice, but believe me, it wasn't fun. At the end, I'd come to the conclusion that I was probably going to stay a farmer, if only because it wasn't all that bad that I could tell so far. That is, if I didn't end up dead.

Well, since I'm writing this now, obviously I'm not dead, but at the time, death was very much a possibility.

But anyways.

So, my introspective period- in which I discovered I didn't mind farming, I had no idea what I was doing with my life and didn't care, and how I wished my parents were proud of me but didn't really care that they probably weren't- finally ended, and I noticed the glow.

Seriously. There was this glow, on the same level as I was. I could only see it if I didn't look directly at it, which made me think at first that I was going nuts. Stay too long in the dark and you start to see things, Cayor…

Only it didn't go away, it didn't change colors, it didn't move. Just stayed there, a pale, pale blue light. And I figured what the hell, why not go take a look?

So I did. I shuffled along very carefully, and managed to find a wall, or a pile of rocks anyways, that I could keep one hand on as I walked. And the closer I got, the brighter the light got.

Until I rounded a corner, or whatever the cave equivalent is, and had to stop dead in my tracks.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

It was a sword. On a pedestal stand. And it was glowing.


End file.
